‘Think of your place mat as a clock face. Around your mat you’ll find objects at certain points in time. For instance, your knife is currently at three and your fork at nine. Remember these times. Stick to them. If you keep your glass at one, for example, you’ll remember where you put it. Same with the bottle. Keep that at, say, ten. Understand?’

‘Yes, Karl. Thanks.’

‘Enjoy your wine.’

‘Karl?’

‘I think he’s gone.’

‘Oh.’

‘Did you want something?’

‘I need the loo.’

‘Shit.’

‘It’s okay. I can hold on.’

‘Jesus.’

‘This is pretty fucked up, isn’t it?’

‘It’s mad.’

‘Beats that Turkish place we ended up in last night.’

‘Can anyone see lights?’

‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the time.’

‘They’re whooshing around.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘I’m hallucinating.’

‘You alright, mate? Coming down with something after shagging that Turkish bird last night?’

‘I never shagged her!’

‘Ahem.’

‘Karl.’

‘You’re still here.’

‘Hey, buddy.’

‘I just dropped a napkin.’

‘Have you found it?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Karl, I can see lights. It’s making me feel sick.’

‘That’ll be your eyes acclimatising. Nothing to worry about.’

‘It’s not syphilis, then.’

‘Shut up.’

‘It’s a normal reaction.’

‘There you go, Pete: I’m normal.’

‘Karl?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Where are the loos?’

‘They’re outside.’

‘Outside?’

‘I mean: not in this room.’

‘Er… are they in the dark too?’

‘No.’

‘That’s a shame. I’ve never taken a shit in the pitch black before.’

‘Haven’t you?’

‘Pete!’

‘Would you like to go now? I can take you. Just hold my hand.’

‘Er, I think I’ll hold on.’

‘No problem. I’ll be back with your starters soon.’

‘Hey, Pete.’

‘What?’

‘You shouldn’t say things like that to the waiter, mate, about shitting in the dark.’

‘Why not?’

‘Has he gone yet?’

‘He’s blind.’

‘Has he definitely gone?’

‘He’ll be used to comments like that. No big deal.’

‘I need wine.’

‘Have you got red or white there, Mark?’

‘Forgotten.’

‘I thought I had white. But it tastes red.’

‘Fuck, I’ve spilt it.’

‘Give it here.’

‘You swigging from the bottle, Pete?’

‘What if I am?’

‘Oh Jesus, you’re not, are you?’

‘Tastes red.’

‘You’re an animal.’

‘Wait ’til you see me later. This is nothing.’

‘We’re not actually going to a strip club, are we?’

‘Yeah. Why not?’

‘Sandra will kill me if she finds out.’

‘She won’t find out.’

‘She won’t find out.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Come on, Tom. Kick back. Relax.’

‘You’re on holiday.’

‘Strictly speaking we’re on a business weekend.’

‘But what type of business?’

‘Ha!’

‘I’ve got one or two types in mind, starting with—’

‘Erm, how close are we to the next table?’

‘We embarrassing you, mate?’

‘I can’t feel anything over this way.’

‘Don’t do that!’

‘What?’

‘Reach out! You might grab someone.’

‘Sounds fun. Especially if it’s that blonde waitress with the squinty eyes. I wouldn’t mind a fistful of her in the dark.’

‘You’re such a cock.’

‘Your salad, sir.’

‘Oops.’

Table 17

‘I just wish she’d shut up sometimes.’

‘I know.’

‘The way she spoke about the menu.’

‘Darling.’

‘We simply must have canapés.’

‘Darling, don’t.’

‘A wedding isn’t a wedding without canapés.’

‘I know.’

‘Never mind that it’s our wedding.’

‘Of course.’

‘And I hate canapés.’

‘We both do.’

‘All that fuss she made about the bouncy castle.’

I know.’

‘One simply must–’

‘–keep up standards! I know. But darling?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m so pleased we can talk about this stuff.’

‘So am I.’

‘Because we’d go out of our minds if we didn’t.’

‘Certainly.’

‘Let’s not be rude about family, though.’

‘You’re right.’

‘They’re only trying to help.’

‘I know.’

‘Especially your grandmother.’

‘Yes.’

‘Being who she is, and everything.’

‘Well, quite.’

‘So let’s just enjoy each other’s company.’

‘Yes.’

‘And not cause a scene.’

‘No.’

‘Sorry, darling.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘I’ll try to relax.’

‘That would be nice.’

‘We’ve got that summit tomorrow and there’ll be plenty to worry about then.’

‘Agreed.’

‘And then that dinner with you-know-who the day after that, which is bound to be a bore.’

‘Indeed.’

‘So let’s enjoy being here for tonight, away from it all, just you and me.’

‘You said it, love.’

‘No journalists.’

‘No cameras.’

‘No limelight.’

‘No light.’

‘Here’s to you, my beautiful fiancée.’

‘And to you, my… darling, where’s your glass?’

‘Oh, god. Maybe we should forgo the clink.’

‘We could just pretend.’

‘Alright, then.’

‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’

‘Clink.’

‘Clink.’

Table 21

‘I can’t tell what this is at all.’

‘It’s delicious.’

‘It’s…’

‘It’s garlicky.’

‘It’s tomato soup.’

‘I don’t like tomato soup.’

‘I feel like I’m slurping louder than usual.’

‘You are.’

‘Oh.’

‘So how are you both finding it?’

‘Brilliant.’

‘I hope I’m not spilling soup down my front.’

‘Hope you’re not spilling it on me. This is a new dress.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Prada. We know.’

‘Yes. Prada. Thank you.’

‘Seriously, though, thank you.’

‘Who?’

‘Who?’

‘You.’

‘For what?’

‘No, not you. I’m thanking Jen. For coming out with us tonight. It’s fun.’

‘Ah.’

‘Aren’t you enjoying it, Kish?’

‘I don’t know… I can understand what it’s like for Jen better now, I guess.’

‘Every meal an adventure.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Something wrong, Jen?’

‘With me? Course not.’

‘Don’t you like it here?’

‘It’s alright.’

‘But…?’

‘It’s the same as any other restaurant for me.’

‘Ah.’

‘Only the atmosphere is a lot…’

‘Yes?’

‘Edgier.’

‘You can say that again.’

‘I’m fine, though.’

‘You’re being a lot quieter than usual.’

‘And you’re both a lot noisier.’

‘Oh no.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t remember where I put my spoon.’

‘Oops.’

‘Ah! Next to my fork. Nine o’clock. Nine o’clock. Nine o’clock.’

‘What about you, Kishan? You alright?’

‘I’m okay.’

‘You do sound quite stressed, Kish.’

‘It’s just–’

‘What?’

‘This whole not-seeing thing. Gets a bit claustrophobic.’

‘I see.’

‘Wonder what we’ll get for main course.’

‘The menu said something about a boozy bird.’

‘Sounds like me on a Friday night!’

‘I don’t think I can taste properly in the dark.’

‘Fancy heading to a bar after this?’

‘Ooh, maybe there’s a Dark Bar somewhere.’

‘No way.’

‘It’d be fun!’

‘I’m not doing shots in pitch black. This is hard enough sober.’

‘Jen? What do you fancy?’

‘Well, I am wearing a Prada dress, so I was hoping we could go somewhere… fancy.’

‘Oh, okay.’

‘Where I can sip cocktails under chandeliers and feel like I’m on Sex and the City.’

‘When I saw her afterwards, out in the street, she was nothing like I’d imagined.’

‘How come?’

‘She had a really long neck.’

‘Oh.’

‘Ugh.’

‘I see.’

‘You don’t know what I look like yet.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Hmmmm.’

‘Have you got one?’

‘What?’

‘A long neck?’

‘For heaven’s sake.’

‘What?’

‘This isn’t working out.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s true.’

‘You haven’t even touched your food.’

‘I’ve finished it.’

‘Oh, I didn’t realise. I haven’t started yet.’

‘Look. I think I’m going to go.’

‘Really?’

‘I’ve never been on a blind date before. I didn’t think it’d be like this.’

‘What did you think it’d be like?’

‘Less…’

‘What?’

‘And more…’

‘What?’

‘Goodbye.’

‘Liza? Liza? I’d like to go now…’

‘Liza?’

‘Bugger.’

Table 39

‘Oh.’

'Yeah?'

‘Oh yeah.’

'You like that?'

‘You’re a bad girl.’

'Can't help it, baby. You turn me on.'

‘Mmmm. Fuck!’

'What?'

‘That the waiter?’

'No, just my foot?'

‘Oh. Right. Carry on.’

'Mmm.'

‘Fuck.’

'What?'

‘This feels fucking…’

'Mmmm.'

‘Oh.’

'Oh?'

‘Oh.’

'Oh?'

‘Oh.’

'Oh?'

‘Oh!’

'Oh?'

‘Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!’

‘Okay, I’m done.’

'Right. Zip yourself up. That'll be fifty euros.'

‘I’ll pay you outside.’

'Great. Where's the serviette?'

Table 40

‘Hello?’

‘Are you there?’

‘If you can hear me, give me a sign.’

‘Anything.’

‘A flashing light. A whisper.’ ‘Anything.’

‘Please.’

‘Hello?’

‘Hello?’

‘Oh my… You are there.’

‘Yes.’

‘I knew it! I’ve been coming here for weeks in the hope that I’d find you.’

‘You have?’

‘Do you have a message for me?’

‘A message?’

‘Yes. A message.’

‘Um. Well.’

‘Go on!’

‘I’ve brought your dessert.’

‘Ah.’

‘You don’t want it?’

‘No. Yes. Sorry. I do.’

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Sir?’

‘I apologise. I thought you were someone else.’

‘Not to worry. Happens all the time.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘I see.’

‘I’ll just leave your dessert here, shall I?’

‘Thank you.’

‘Not at all.’

‘There must be someone out there. Or something. This place is just too magical. What beautiful souls there must be all around me.’

‘What unutterably beautiful souls.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Sorry. Talking to myself again.’

‘I see. Enjoy your dessert.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll be back soon.’

‘No need to rush. I think I’ll just sit here quietly for a while after I’m finished if that’s okay.’

‘Right then.’

‘Um.’

‘Is anybody there?’

Anneliese Mackintosh debut short story collection, Any Other Mouth, was published by Freight, and won The Green Carnation Prize 2014. It was also shortlisted for the Saltire Society's First Book Award, and was a Book Of The Year in The Herald, The Scotsman, Civilian, and The List Magazine, as well as one of The Guardian Reader's Top Ten Books of 2014. Anneliese's fiction has been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and BBC Radio Scotland, and published in UK magazines and anthologies The Scotsman, Edinburgh Review, The Best British Short Stories 2013, Gutter, Causeway/Cabhsair, and From Glasgow to Saturn, as well as US magazines Zygote in my Coffee, Citizens For Decent Literature, and Up The Staircase Quarterly. Anneliese lives in Manchester and works as an editor. Her website is www.anneliesemackintosh.com

Anneliese Mackintosh debut short story collection, Any Other Mouth, was published by Freight, and won The Green Carnation Prize 2014. It was also shortlisted for the Saltire Society's First Book Award, and was a Book Of The Year in The Herald, The Scotsman, Civilian, and The List Magazine, as well as one of The Guardian Reader's Top Ten Books of 2014. Anneliese's fiction has been broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and BBC Radio Scotland, and published in UK magazines and anthologies The Scotsman, Edinburgh Review, The Best British Short Stories 2013, Gutter, Causeway/Cabhsair, and From Glasgow to Saturn, as well as US magazines Zygote in my Coffee, Citizens For Decent Literature, and Up The Staircase Quarterly. Anneliese lives in Manchester and works as an editor. Her website is www.anneliesemackintosh.com